


In The Dark

by narkeza



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 08:35:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narkeza/pseuds/narkeza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John comes home one day to find the flat broken into. Post-Reichenbach Fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Do not own anything

They come around all the time making sure I am eating, sleeping, _alive_.  Every time I would give them the same assurances that I am and it won’t be changing, _please leave me alone_.  Now they are trying to make me leave the flat, they say it will better for me to leave the memories behind and move on with life _but I don’t want to forget_.  This is when it starts.

“John, I do insist.  There is a lovely little place that I have found for you on the other side of the city.”  Mycroft says as he pushes a pile of photographs towards me.  I don’t even look at them as I push them away.  “It is what Sherlockwould have wanted.”

“Don’t, it won’t work, don’t use _him_ against me.  I need to… I want to stay here.  It is my home.”  My emotionless voice still surprises me.  I wave my hand towards the door.  “Goodbye, Mycroft.”

After Mycroft leaves I head into _his_ room.  Everything is still left exactly how it had been before the incident.  I can feel the tears threatening to flow and I blink rapidly, _I cannot let myself lose it again. He_ still has to perform the last miracle, I can’t be without him.  Life without him is already so empty; I am lost and slowly drowning.  Quickly I wrap his dressing gown around myself and go back to sit in my chair.

His smell is slowly fading from the material.

I haven’t told anyone about this, the times that I sit wrapped in his dressing gown and talk to the empty air in hope that somehow he can hear me.  They will only take me away from my home quicker, claiming it is for my health.

In my mind I can see him lounging out in his chair, eyes closed in thought and dressed smartly in his tight, well-tailored suit.  He would frown, smirk, and a smile would dawn on his face when he found the answer, the excitement in his voice as he cryptically tells me, the anticipation in his eyes awaiting my voiced approval.  I am always amazed at his brilliance and always tell him. 

Though it is only in my mind and will not be real again, especially if they make me leave this place.

 


	2. Chapter 2

I slowly walk up the stairs to the flat to hear a voice wafting out through the door.  Carefully and quietly I slide through the open door.  The sight that greets me makes me freeze.

The man leaning against the mantelpiece looks like _him_ , but this man is shorter, has red hair and lacking the sheer presence that Sherlock commanded. 

He hasn’t noticed I am here yet, his focus on something in the kitchen.  I strain to hear if there is anyone in there because I know that there is nothing interesting left in the kitchen after Mrs Hudson was done with it.

“Do we really have to do this?  I don’t think you can get away with this still.  You are pushing your luck to far this time.”  The ginger haired man said nervously.

“Stop worrying, Martin.  He won’t be back for another five minutes.”

A strangled noise escapes my throat and there is a flurry of movement from next to the fireplace and from out of the kitchen.

“No.  This is just a dream.  In a moment you will wake up in your chair and he’ll still be gone…”  I stumble over to the couch and collapse onto it.  The figure that entered from the kitchen rushes over worriedly and goes to touch me but stops.  The ginger is muttering to himself and pacing but I pay him no more attention.

The indecisive figure in front of me comes into focus.  A mop of dark curled hair, piercing blue eyes, sharp cheekbones and lips with a Cupid’s bow, a long neck and further down a neat suit under a black overcoat.  I look back up and his eyes are flickering all over my face; looking, observing.  Heat is rising to my cheeks as my anger at this man starts to grow, he notices straight away of course.

“John, I-” I didn’t hear the rest of that sentence as my fist connected with the side of his face.

I curl in on myself rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands and say quietly, “Why, Sherlock?  You left me alone thinking you are dead.  You left me with nothing because you are everything to me.  Fuck!”  I look up to see Sherlock sprawled against the coffee table, an odd look on his face and red mark across his cheek.  I quickly slide of the couch to sit between his long legs and touch his cheek gently.  “I would say sorry but you deserved that, you bastard.” 

 He opened his mouth to say something but it got caught in the desperate hug I caught him in.  I fell his arms slowly rise up around me and his head lean down to settle between my neck and shoulder, clinging tightly.  “I am lost without you.  Don’t ever leave me again or I swear I will kill you, properly this time.”  My voice is getting harsh as the tears threaten to overflow.  Sherlock pulls me closer and I can feel his breath, warm and uneven, against my neck and my tears start flowing.

“I’ll, uh, just go into the other room then…”  I don’t even look up as I hear the gingers, Martin’s, footsteps.


	3. Chapter 3

For a long time we sat there, his arms wrapped around me and his hands rubbing circles on my back.  All that is uniquely Sherlock is surrounding me, intoxicating me.  I think back to the session at the therapists and all that she told me about regret and saying what I think.  This was my opportunity to say all of it but try as I might I couldn’t find my voice.  The hitches in my breathing seem to resonate through Sherlock, rocking him with each outtake. 

“John…”  His crooned into my ear, “John, my blogger, my best friend…  I did it for you.  It was for your protection, he was going kill you.  I knew you would be strong enough to get through it, you are so brave.  I was always going to come back to you, John.  I missed you.”

Towards the end his voice was barely a whisper, just his breath caressing my ear.  I take my head from his shoulder and look at his face.

The emotion written across his face is astounding.  Those blue eyes are rimmed in red and full of unshed tears, his teeth worrying his lower lip.  None of the Holmes blank aloofness but honest feeling.  It is completely mind-numbing, the emotions so honest and raw.  I grasp his face in my hands and caress his cheeks with my thumbs.  He leans slightly into my touch, his eyelids flicker shut as a tear escapes.

“There is something I have always meant to tell you but I never got the chance. Sherlock, I lo-” I can’t say it, not yet, “I really thought you were gone and you didn’t come to prove me wrong.  Didn’t you care enough?  But the great Sherlock Holmes doesn’t have feelings, does he?” I can feel my anger rising quickly and I stand to move away from Sherlock, turning my back to him.  “Not unless it is for your own benefit and how could my feelings be for your own benefit?  I’m only your friend…”

I can hear Sherlock moving behind me and feel his hands rest on my shoulders, then his forehead against my hair.

“Oh John, your life is for my benefit.  Life without you would be boring and intolerable.  Over the time that I have known you have changed me, I have always thought that caring is a disadvantage.  It is accept with you.  If I hadn’t faked my death you would be dead, Moriarty’s men would have seen to that.  I couldn’t let that happen.

“Please, John, I was going to come tell you but I had to make sure nothing was left of Moriarty’s influence.  I came here with Martin to make sure nothing was left at the flat so I could return later tonight for good.” 

I feel his hands gripping tighter in the silence that follows.

“Please go, Sherlock.”  My voice sounding loud in the deafening silence and I shrug out of his hold.  Behind me I hear his retreat.


End file.
